Evil Empire
by Ben Cope
Summary: It was okay before, but when the economy went south after the war, the empire couldn't control it's citizens. This is based on and inspired by Oblivion, but it is not set in Nirn. I have made my own world. Genre is Tragedy for lack of a better term.


Disclaimer: I don't own own Oblivion.

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4E 527, 1st of second seed.

Four years of war with the elves from the south east had left the imperial province weakened. Her legions had been hit hard, and were heavily depleted. Reconstruction had begun on several forts left ruined in the wake of battle, but many considered it a bad move, given the state of the economy. Southern towns, cities, and villages had been abandoned before the advancing elves, who destroyed almost everything. The once grand city of tel-adir lay in ruin, with small animals scurrying through the rubble. However, some looked hopefuly to the future, and many adventurers sought fame and fortune, braving the hardships of the wastelands to find great treasure left behind by the elves after the end of the war. Some poor merchant are now making money hand over fist because many wealthy merchants much larger ships had been requisitioned and destroyed, leaving the small craft of poorer merchants to transport almost all goods. As a result, of their inability to transport as much as large ships, prices on many things raised excessively, particularly luxury items, with the price of fine wine more than tripling. To fund reconstruction projects, taxes were raised, which caused many poorer people to revolt.

One such revolt took place in the capitol itself, and because not all legionairres thought it right to put down the revolt, the legion was confused, and was split into two opposite forces. All throughout the city, the lower class fought alongside legion soldiers, against legion soldiers still loyal to the emperor.

Cyrus was an adventurer who had been in the city for the week. He awoke, and started to eat breakfast in his hotel, when he heard shouting outside. He kept eating, until he heard a scream, mixed with the sound of a sword rending flesh. He grabbed the knife off his plate and sprinted outside. There was a legion captain, standing over the broken body of a beggar, whose blood was flowing quickly onto the cobblestone street. Some soldiers murmured, others stood tall and proud, as legionaires are taught to do. A wall of people begins to form. Cyrus's trained eye notices several figures, hugging walls, hiding in corners, and on the roofs. The crowd isn't silent anymore.

"Bruccias was a good man!" one shouted.

"He didn't have the money!" said another.

It quickly escalated. Suddenly, a soldier went down, some soldiers thought it was someone in the mob, and attacked. Some legionaires decided to fight for moral right, and attacked their fellow legionaires. Cyrus was in. He had killed a legion soldier, and picked up his sword. Now he was struggling to get out to where he could actually use it.

Just as he got out, 10 or so soldiers came running up the street, and while some went to the crowd, 4 circled Cyrus. Cyrus was ready. The first swing came high, and cyrus ducked it, kicking the soldiers feet, as he rolled to avoid a different soldiers attack. The first soldier was on the ground now, and Cyrus flicked his blade across his neck as he Cyrus got up. Cyrus jumped into one of the remaining soldiers, with his blade held in front of him. This one move avoided a strike at foot level, and killed a soldier, leaving just two. He threw his blade parallel to the ground before he got up, knocking one soldier down. Cyrus ducked right, then punched up, under the jaw, with all the force of his legs. It broke the man's neck, and he died instantly. Cyrus then retrieved a blade, finished off the soldier rolling around on the ground holding his foot stubs. And faced the arches who were lined up up the street. He rolled behind a crate to avoid an arrow. Peeking around the crate, he saw the arches all shot expertly from the roof of a nearby building. More and more guards arrived, and most fought the peasants, as they didn't know what was going on. Cyrus was grabbed from behind, and he struggled to escape, as a guard was approaching him. He flipped the guard holding him over himself, right onto the approaching soldier. Cyrus thrusted down with his sword, impaling both men.

An explosion destroyed a small house, and through the smoke and debris, Cyrus could see men in heavy armor, wearing hoods. "Legion battlemages!" Thought Cyrus. He ran in the other direction, slaughtering any guard that got in his way. Getting onto another street, he saw more battlemages, steadily advancing up the street, knocking out or killing everyone in the crowd, and walking over their bodies. Cyrus stepped back into the alley. There was a small wooden shelter built up against the stone wall of some rich guys house. Cyrus climbed up, got onto a windowsill, and then lifted himself up to a ledge. A hooded figure appeared over the edge of the roof, and lowered a rope. Cyrus was Temporarily taken aback. Then he pieced everything together. Somehow, various poor and middle class people had gotten help in the uprising, so it wasn't just a spontaneous riot. Still, it wasn't well planned out, if it was even planned out at all. Cyrus followed the man along the roofs until they got to a group of assassins. They quickly deliberated on a plan. When the battlemages were just below their position, a crossbow bolt was fired into the lower wall of the building on the opposite side of the street. The bolt was trailed by a well greased rope.

Cyrus slid down the rope, kicking a Battlemage with immense force, and thendropping off the rope, propelled into another, with his blade held forward. Cyrus pulled his blade free, and engaged the others. Meanwhile, the assassins on the roof picked them off easily, because none seemed to notice the archers on the roof when there was a more obvious threat; Cyrus. When they were dealt with, Cyrus proceeded to the legion Headquarters, followed by the assassins, and many other fighters. Many guards who were acting on their morals also followed. He arrived to find the legion headquartes barricaded, and locked down. Cyrus got everyone relatively organized, and began to lay siege. More and more people continued to arrive, apparently the riot had started separately in several places, and spread throughout the city, and other people had thought to attack the legion headquarters. That night though, legion battlemages crept into the area the rebels were holding. Legion soldiers waited to form a wall to stop anyone from escaping. Inside the legion compound, cauldrons of boiling oil lined the walls. One rebel saw saw the legion soldiers lurking in the shadows, and raised the alarm. The battlemages began torching the place, and archers hailed down arrows from inside the compound. The rebels began backing up against the compound wall. Cyrus decapitated one battlemage, but another cast a fireball that sent him flying. While the decapitated battlemage mostly protected him, he received severe burns on his right forearm, side and the right side of his face. Upon hitting the ground, he fell unconscious.

"Sir, news from the capitol."

"And…"

"Sir, the rebellion failed."

"What!?! Get out of my sight!"

"Sir, I'm only…"

"I said out!"

Cyrus woke in a cold, dank, wet cell, along with two other people, both bruised and cut up from the battle. He winced as he stood up, he was hurting all over, except his right side, forearm, and the right side of his face. In those places, he felt nothing at all. He walked up, and rattled the bars. A jailor came over, and struck him through the bars with the end of a staff. Cyrus fell down and lost consciousness again…

"Hello."

"Aaahh! Oh… I told you to announce yourself."

"I am a speaker of the dark brotherhood, and you will NOT order me!"

"I believe you are held by a higher authority to fulfill my contract, AND YOU'VE FAILED!!! I'm paying you a huge amount of gold, and you failed!"

It was a bright day, and the citizens of the capitol were gathered on the waterfront. They were surrounded by legionaires. They were being forced to watch the executions of those deemed by the empire as "leaders of the rebellion". A four person gallows had been constructed at the water's edge, raised up about 20 cubits, because it was on lower ground that because it was on lower ground than the crowd. Cyrus was tied to 12 other people, 8 men and 4 women. Cyrus was 5th in line. Guards untied the first four and positioned them on the gallows.

"These are your leaders. Your Emperor deemed it necessary for you to watch. Let this serve as an example of what happens to rebels." The guard captain pulled the lever, and all four "leaders" fell, suspended by their necks. One large orc died instantly because his neck broke, but a much smaller child hung there for 10 minutes before he finally went limp. The bodies were removed, and the gallows prepared again.

As Cyrus was untied and walked up to the gallows, he noticed a small, fast ship coming up behind the gallows on the waterfront. He thought nothing of it, though, as he was more preoccupied with the coming end of his life. He, one of the women and 2 other men were stood on top of the trap doors, hoods were placed over their heads, and their hands were left tied behind their backs. Just as the soldiers began to pace the nooses around the necks of those to be executed though, they were shot from behind by archers on the small ship on the lake. Cyrus and the others ducked, but were pretty much helpless, because they couldn't see or move their hands. However, Archers around the area took out the legion archers before they could retaliate, and warriors came up from the crowd to the gallows to cut the bonds on Cyrus and the other 3. When Cyrus was free, the woman who had cut his bonds pointed at the ship, and said "go". Cyrus dove off the back of the Gallows platform, and into the water, which dropped off from the shore immediately to a depth of about 3 fathoms. Cyrus swam the short distance to the sail and oar craft, and climbed up the rope ladder that had been cast over the side. The woman who had been about to be executed made it, but the other two had been killed by an archer that had been in a tower on the wall when the whole thing started, and had come out after hearing the commotion. Five others made it onto the ship, and then they left. They sped to the south, powered by the wind, and twelve men rowing. It's hull was thin, and came to a point, which helped it to move through the water more easily. They kept going into the night, and about four hours after sundown they came to an inlet, that they sailed up. Just before dawn the next day, they entered a water filled cavern. They stopped at a small dock that had been built recently, and everyone got off. There were bedrolls set up in a large circle around a fire, which lighted the cavern, and showed several passages going off in different directions. A man introduced himself as Nyral, and showed the newcomers to their own bedrolls, and they wearily went to sleep.

Cyrus woke up just before sunset. He wandered around the small camp, which was completely contained inside the cavern. He was stopped by an Argonian woman. "Oh, you're probably starving! Let me show you to the mess room." She led Cyrus down across the main cavern, and into a narrow tunnel. He followed close behind, and they quickly arrived in a well lit room with several tables set up. There was some fruit sitting out in a bowl, a half roll of bread, and some beef left over from supper. Cyrus cut a slice of bread, put an apple, banana, and steak on his plate. He grabbed a fork and knife, and began eating voraciously. He quickly became thirsty, and so filled a tankard with some sort of alcoholic beverage from the keg sitting on a stand next to the food. It wasn't the best ever, but he was so thirsty he didn't even notice. After getting seconds, and drinking another tankard, he was finished, cleaned his dishes, and went back to camp. There, Nyral was waiting for him. "Follow me, Cyrus."

Cyrus followed him down another passage, to a room with a large round table set up in the middle. There were shelves full of parchments and scrolls lining the walls. There were a number of people sitting around the table. There were two empty seats. Nyral sat down in one of them, and Cyrus sat in the other.

"We welcome you, Cyrus. I'm sure you have many questions, but I'll talk first, and maybe I'll answer some of them. This is a resistance group. The Cavern was expanded several years ago, and furnished at the beginning of the war as a Marauder group's special hideout, where they planned to weather out the war. Just after the war ended, we found them, and cleared it out. It's probably the most secret place along the water in the entire province. It's well of the main waterway, and hidden by many plants and vines. We are a group that opposes the empire's policies, and are even more solid in our standing after how they handled that riot in the Imperial City. Hundreds, maybe a thousand Civilians were slaughtered by the legion. We know you are a skilled adventurer, and I'm sure you would be able to adapt to leading a small army. We attack the legion when they aren't traveling in large numbers, and disappear as quickly as we attack. We just recently learned of a large force that has set up a stockade style fortress in the dense woods several days south-west of here. I cannot force you, but I must ask, could you please lead a campaign against them?"

"I suppose I could. But I'll need to see the troops. And maps. I'll need maps of the area, and as much information as I can get."

"Of course, and you'll be supplied as best we can, but that might not always be too good. You'll have to find alternate means of getting food, alcohol, and other supplies. The men and women aren't very well armed, and aren't really trained. Mind you, they are good fighters, they all have heart, and would die to save the empire from it's current corruption."

"Good. I'll train them when we get there, and the legion won't stand a chance. How long before you want me to move out?"

"Oh, you might as well stay here for awhile, and get to know people, besides, this way we can get more supplies for you. We're going to build another two boats for you to travel with. That way, your men can ride in the new boats, while we bring supplies in one of the old ones. Here, this is a map of that area, and there's a boy around here somewhere that was acting as a scout, and saw the legion building the stockade. He's probably you best bet for information."

"Thanks. I'm gonna go for a swim, so if you'll excuse me, I'll be going."

Cyrus walked out to the main cavern, and stripped down to his loincloth. He dove off the dock, and swam to the bottom, then surfaced, and went out of the cavern. He swam for some distance, and found a spot along the bank. He climbed up out of the creek, and sat there, thinking about his new responsibility. Before being an adventurer, he had been part of the legion, and faught in a small, little known conflict in the swamps, far south of where he was currently at. The Argonian soldiers had attacked from underwater, from the thick trees of the jungle, from underground, and from every direction. Fighting them, he had learned many strategies, which he planned to put to use here. He was haunted by the fact that he would lose good soldiers. He hadn't been a leader back then, but a line animal, and even then he had felt a great deal of guilt. He knew though, that if he did not lead them, even more of them would die. He must train them to be fast, smart, and unforgiving, just as the Argonians had been. But a sound interrupted his thinking. He had heard the water ripple. He slipped back into the creek, and, with his eyes just above the surface looked around. Quickly, he saw movement in the reed on the far side of the creek. A small rowboat, with two legion soldiers in it, had been moving quietly through the reeds. He lifted up, took a breath, and submerged. He launched off the bank, and was across the creek without a stroke. He surfaced just behind the boat, and reached in, lightly grabbing a dagger. Then, Cyrus pulled out a rope, threw it around one of the legion soldiers, and pulled him off the boat. Neither soldiers were wearing heavy armor, since they were on the water. Cyrus stabbed the man, up from below the jaw. Then he tangled up the other one in the rope, and pulled him to shore. He got the boat, put the soldier in it, put the dead man on top of him, and rowed the boat back to the cavern.

When he got back, some people left the room in a hurry, and Nyral came back, with a confused, angry look on his face.

"Why do you bring the enemy into our home?!"

"He and his buddy were searching for something. My guess is the legion knows you're somewhere near here."

"Well, there's nothing we can do very quickly. Grab him, and follow me." Cyrus pulled the man by a loop of rope. Cyrus had tied his hands behind his back when he got back into the cavern, but hadn't really properly tied him up, so there was quite a bit of loose rope. Nyral led Cyrus through a long network of windy passages, and eventually came to a small unused natural cave. The two of them tied the legion soldier to a stalagmite that was almost connected to a stalagtite about 15 cubits overhead. Cyrus and Nyral then left him, to let him build up fear before the interrogation.

"All right. Could I meet the soldiers who'll be going with me, I could begin training them now?"

"Sure, they got back just a bit ago. Head into the main room, and I'll get them lined up."

Cyrus headed out to the main cavern, and waited. After a short while, twenty men and women dressed in a conglomeration of different kinds of worn beat-up armor. They all wore stuff like fur, leather, raw silk arrow protection vests, and a little bit of chainmail. The soldiers themselves stood in a loose jumble, and some were noticeably hurt from their previous endeavor. Only one had a bow and arrows, the rest were armed with trusty, reliably, iron daggers, shortswords, and finely made steel longswords scavenged from fallen legionairres. Cyrus Immedietly processed all this, and Began Shouting at them to get into formation. They formed two lines of ten, and tried to look professional. They failed. However, Cyrus realized that he was getting nowhere shouting for that, and so inspected the weapons. The results were varied. Some had kept their weapons clean, sharp, and shiny, while some others had only kept them sharp. Cyrus told every one of those soldiers to step forward. He than chewed them out, and sent them off to clean their weapons. The 11 he was left with he asked how much water they drank a day.

"two waterskins full, sir."

"Only two? You should be drinking at Least twice that. Believe me, tomorrow, I'm gonna run you into the ground, and you'll need to drink more, to keep from collapsing from lack of water. So, I want everyone to bring two waterskins wherever we go tomorrow, one full of water, the other alcohol, to mix in the water to keep from getting sick. Of course you know this, but back in my legion days, I knew a guy that didn't… And don't eat too much breakfast. Spread the word to the others as well. That is all, you're dismissed."

Cyrus went to sit on the dock, looking out the mouth of the cave for several hours before crawling into bed.

Cyrus woke up just as the sun was beginning to rise, and a tiny shaft of light penetrated into the cavern. Most of the others were asleep, so he quietly walked to the mess room for a quick breakfast. When he got there, The Argonian woman he'd met the night before was there starting the fire in the oven that had been built against the cave wall. He talked to her for awhile, and then cut slice of bread from the loak sitting out, and grabbed some kind of strange fruit, about twice the size of an apple, with a pink skin. "What's this?" he asked the woman. "An ale-fruit. We don't know what it's actually called, but they're quite tasty, and we named them that because they make an even tastier ale. You can find them all over around here. they hang from a tree, and fall when ripe, just like apples. Go ahead, try it." Cyrus Bit into it. It was much softer than an apple, and very sweet. "Hmmm" "Good, isn't it?" "Yeah, extremely."

Cyrus got a tankard of water, then topped it off with ale, and sat down to eat. After finishing the Bread and fruit, he had another piece of bread, but no more; he didn't want to puke today, like his soldiers would be.

He went back out, and waited at the entrance of the cave for his troops to come meet him. He waited for quite awhile. Finally, after probably an hour, all twenty of his troops were before him. Under his instruction, they all went to get lighter clothes, and abandon their weapons, except for daggers; he didn't want to wear them out too badly today. They all came back within five minutes, and he told them to follow him. He dove into the water, and thrust his legs back, making his body hydrodynamic, and he was propelled perhaps 15 yards through the water before even coming to the surface. He continued to swim, until he was perhaps 100 yards away from where he had jumped. The rest lagged behind quite a bit. Whilst treading water, he berated them for being so slow. None wanting to be the one picked out as a slacker, they all doubled their efforts, and were huffing and puffing by the time they were nearing Cyrus, only to have Cyrus turn, kick, and keep going. By the time Cyrus decided to go to shore, he had stopped to wait seven times. He climbed up through the thick cover on the side of the bank, and began shouting at his troops to "MOVE!". He was really pushing them. And the day's workout had only started.

When they all reached him, gasping for breath, feeling weak all over, and sopping wet, he gave them about five minutes rest. Deciding not to be too harsh, he didn't scream, but simply suggested to his soldiers to wake up earlier, and get an earlier start to the day. Then, he said "Breaks over, ladies" and jogged out through the woods, which were much less dens now that they were off the shore. The soldiers reluctantly followed. When they had all caught up, Cyrus began picking up the pace. Still not at a pace to cause heavy breathing for himself, he warned the others "Watch your footing." He continued to pick up the pace, and some of his troops began lagging behind. "Keep up!" he shouted. By now, his breathing was becoming audible to the two guys who managed to keep up with him. They were breathing much harder, but Cyrus was very pleased with them. Then Cyrus turned, and ran back, to get all his troops into one group again. When he got to the last one, he ordered him to lead the pack, and forced him to move much more quickly than he had been. He was strained, but he was able to do it, without slowing down the group, which Cyrus followed behind by about 10 cubits. After several miles at what was an intense pace for the troops, Cyrus again took the lead. He Turned up a steep hill, and heard a number of choice words muttered between breaths behind him. He just chuckled and sped up. He stopped at the top, to shout at those who were walking.

When everyone was on the top, he gave a quick lesson on form. "Use your arms. It makes running MUCH easier. Hold your hand in a loose fist, and bring it from your hips to near the line through your nose. When Your right leg is forward, your left hand should be forward. You especially need to pump your arms when going up a hill. If we were running on a road, I'd tell you to try to land on your hell, and roll forward to the ball of your foot, but out here, you need to be light on your feet, so you should land on the front of your foot. Never land flatfooted, since that can cause some very painful injury. I'll be teaching you more about form when we get back to base." And Cyrus began jogging down the hill. He kept a relatively slow pace on the way back, and made sure to have them stretch before they got into the water. Upon reaching the cavern, Cyrus had his troops do 20 pushups, then 40 curl-ups. Then he let them go eat, their workout was finished.

Cyrus was very pleased, these ragtag soldiers had great heart, and really pushed themselves. Only two had not followed his directions to not eat to heavily and had, of course, thrown up. All of them were aching, and had pains all over, from a combination of just the workout and the fact that some of them had fallen while running through the woods. That was something he needed to work on. He was sure that he could get these guys into shape, and make a real fighting force out of them. After lunch, he planned on giving them some weapons training. But lunch comes first, and he walked with his men to the mess room. He talked to them, but did not praise them, despite the pride he already felt in them. But he didn't chew them out either. He talked to the two guys who had kept up with him. One of those two was the archer, and apparently, the other had acted as a scout. The archer's name was Forond. The other guy's name was Torlin, and he acted as second in command of the group when they split up to surround an enemy.

"So, Forond, where are you from?"

"I came from the south, where my family owned a small farm, far from civilization. My father taught me to use a bow when I was ten. At that time it was just for hunting, and to continue the tradition…"

"So, how would you feel about training the rest of the guys?"

"I'd love to. I've always been saying we need to increase our standoff distance."

"Good. And, how'd you feel after that run?"

"A little tired" he sheepishly admitted.

"Hehe. I run every morning, so I'm in very good shape. You'll all be there in a month, as long as you work hard. How about you, Torlin?"

"Ha. I was beat, but I didn't want to fall back. That was nuts"

"Good, that's the whole purpose of today's workout. It's all mental."

Cyrus wanted to know more about the groups past actions, so he asked one of the guys across the table, whose name was Esdruf: "What are your past combat expierences?"

"You mean what I've done with this group? Well, mainly we've raided convoys taking supplies to repair the forts all along the eastern border. One of our guys was in the Imperial City, looking to find out about another convoy, when he overheard a couple people at a tavern table talking quietly about an upcoming 'uprising'. He came back and told us about it, and Nyral figured it was worth sending some longboats up to the city. That's why we were near the city and were able to save you. I was an arena hopeful before all this, and had trained with some of the best, but I was never actually in a match, I left and joined these revolutionaries here before my first match. I suppose it's for the best, now that I've actually been in combat, I realize that it is not something to enter into lightly, and it definitely isn't worth risking your life for money."

"Yeah. How do you usually attack the convoys?"

"Well, Forond usually separates from the group, and finds a tree that he can climb some distance in front of the convoy. He usually initiates the attack. Then we send one group around back, with Torlin, who try to sneak in as close as possible, and they charge into the enemy as soon as Forond fires a shot. This usually results in a panic, as not many of the Legionaires and other men in the convoys are fully trained or veterans. They're untrained, green soldiers. The very worst sort. Anyway, Nyral leads a group out ahead, and they intercept any enemies who escape from Torlin's group."

"We won't be able to do that with the guys we're about to go against. They'll be veterans from the war, and have had better training."

"You think we can take 'em then?"

"Yes, of course. It'll just take some ingenuity, time, and a bit of luck. For now, just focus on your training."

After lunch, Cyrus lead the group into the main cavern, where he watched them spar off for about an hour, periodically having them do pushups and other excercises. After observing their tendencies in combat, he began to teach them. By the end of his lesson, they knew how to disarm an opponent with a twist of their wrist, how to roll under an opponents swing and come up behind them, able to quickly finish them. Though they knew the technique, they weren't necessarily proficient. That would come after more practice.

**Three months later.**

Cyrus and his 20 men and women at arms were ready. They were in shape, trained in the use of the bow and arrows, and smarter. Cyrus had taught them many lessons, and they were now a proper fighting force. They were saying their goodbyes to loved ones, and preparing to leave the cavern. The ships had been built, and were loaded up with supplies and ready to go. The two new boats had been lightly loaded, they were going to be carrying the fighters. The other, older boat, was heavily loaded with supplies, and only two people would be on board, to guide it. The boats were loaded with alcohol, food, arrows, steel ingots and leather scraps for repairs, tools, rope, and a bunch of other supplies. The ships themselves were just like the old ones, thin, sleek hulled, with oars to be used by the people on the boats, and plenty of sail area. They were meant to be fast, able to easily outrun the imperial navy's much larger warships, which are made to hold a large number of soldiers, and plenty of arms. The fighters finished saying goodbye, and reluctantly climbed into the boats. They all knew that they might not come back. It was something they had known even when they went to raid a convoy, but this was different.

It was a very quiet, somber boat ride that lasted through the rest of the day, and into the night. They got to their destination several hours after the sun had gone down, and immediately began unpacking all of the supplies. They carried them a little ways inland, and left them between two fallen trees, covering them up with some branches.

Then, they hunkered down for the night, but didn't build a fire, because they didn't know if the officer in charge of the fort was sending out patrols. The next morning, they would split up, spread out, and look for a good spot to set up a more permanent camp.

The spot that they settled on was an island in the middle of a swamp, thickly populated with trees and bushes. The island was far enough into the dense trees that a large bonfire set on the island would not have been visible at the edge of the swamp. And the fact that it was a swamp was likely to keep legion soldiers from wandering near. The fighters and Cyrus began the long, three day process of carrying the supplies to the island and setting up camp. Once all the supplies were on the island, work began on building a clay oven, out of clay found along the shoreline where they had been dropped off, several platforms raised several feet off of the ground, and roofs over them. The platforms would serve to keep everyone off of the ground, which would, if it rained, be wet, and where snakes came out of the swamp. The roofs would be to keep rain from falling on the platforms. In all, it took 10 days to get completely set up. Then, they rested for a day. The platforms had been built, roofs put up, and, thin walls had been quickly put up around them. Everything was in order, and preparation to begin the siege began. Arrow shafts were made, stakes sharpened, and poisons extracted from several poisonous plants, insects and animals. Archery was practiced, on targets, and during hunting expeditions. In the meantime, Cyrus began to scope out the fort, and make some simple maps, from which he began thinking about strategy. Of course, he knew that he would not be directly attacking the fort, as that would be suicidal. H knew that he would have to starve the fort of supplies for some time before he could attempt a direct attack. Thankfully, with only one road going past the fort, there weren't many ways supplies could come in from. Cyrus' men only moved in stealth, to get more practice. They were one with the landscape around them. On more than one occasion, legion scouts came within 20 feet of hunter groups, but didn't even notice them.

After another week of scouting out the road, the fort, and the landscape surrounding, Cyrus decided it was time to shut down the supply lines. He split the group into two groups of ten, and took one group north to a place he had scouted out along the road, and sent the other group south, under the leadership of Forond, to another pre-determined spot. 10 people, 7 women and three men, had been left behind at the main camp. Once the strike groups were in place, they dug pits, and stuck sharpened stakes in the bottom. Then, sticks were laid in a criss-cross pattern over them, ferns laid on top of that, and then a layer of dirt was put on top, and made to look just like the rest of the dirt road. A heavy log was lifted up into the trees over the road, and tied by a single rope to the tree it hung from, and with two ropes to heavy branches about 15 feet forward of where the log hung. The road was about 25 feet below, and with the slack of the ropes, when the log swung downward, it would hang about 4 feet above the road. Holes were dug along the road, and covered up with branches, dirt and vegetation stuck up out of them, to camouflage them. Close quarters fighters would hide in wait here.

It wasn't long before a small convoy came along the north-bound road, heading just past Forond's group. Forond was waiting in the trees above the road, right next to the heavy log. There were 2 other archers in the trees above the road, and the rest were in the pits along the road. It was a very small convoy, with only three legion guards to protect it. Forond Fired a shot, shortly followed by his other archers, and then the melee fighter rose, and stormed the convoy. The engagement lasted only 45 seconds, and no captives were taken. All 6 of the people with the convoy were killed, and then drug back into the woods, where they were buried several feet into the soft ground. The cart was dismantled, and supplies were set aside, deep in the woods, to be taken back to base later. After it was over, there was no trace that any action had happened.

Cyrus' group didn't get any targets for nearly a week, but when they did, they **really** got a target. And, they were prepared. They had prepared far more traps than Forond's group had, and were quite ready. The convoy that approached them was a pretty good sized one. But, unusually, it also carried wounded, and there were several arrows stuck out of the carts. It seemed, it had already been attacked once. There were 20 legion soldiers still walking, the rest were lying in the carts, obviously seriously injured. Cyrus had more men set up as archers. They weren't just in the treetops, but also in the woods surrounding the road. As the convoy approached, Cyrus gave hand signals to his men, assigning targets to each of his 5 archers. When the convoy was almost directly below them, they opened fire. They rapidly continued to fire, and Cyrus cut the rope holding back the log next to him. It swung down, and hit 1 man directly in the face, killing him immediately, and then two men in the chest, breaking their ribs, and sending them flying back into their comrades. Cyrus hesitated for a second, and then leaped down, landing on top of another soldier, who broke his fall. At this time, the 4 other melee fighters rose up, and charged the unsuspecting soldiers, who they easily cut down from the flank. Cyrus made sure to finish off the soldier he landed on, and the soldiers taken down by the log. They made sure to finish off all of the wounded, and removed the bodies from the road. They also dismantled the carts, and took the supplies deep into the woods, to be taken back to base. Cyrus' group took only minor injuries in the engagement, which was over in less than 5 minutes.

The Arnes-Raht guerrilla fighters were licking their wounds from their botched attack on an imperial convoy. They had been properly concealed, and not made any mistakes, that they knew of, but… the enemy had been alert. They had not appeared to be. It took skill to feign that. Little did the Khajiit know, they had just ambushed a convoy protected by hardened veterans that had survived the war with the elves. The empire had sent them not just to protect the supplies in the convoy, but to destroy whatever resistance had been blocking passage down the road on and off for nearly a month. The Arnes-Raht had not won victory, in fact, they had been lucky to get away alive. However, they had opened the way for Cyrus' group, by making the soldiers think the danger was gone: the worst mistake a soldier could make, but it was one lesson of war the soldiers had forgotten. Tsabhira was angry. She was the leader of this outfit, and she had failed at leading them, resulting in the death of 10, and the serious wounding of 5 others, whose wounds would likely kill them, since she would not be able to provide medical attention. Like the rest, she wondered what the hell had gone wrong, but unlike the rest, of course, the weight of the failure fell on her. Due to her incompetence as a leader, the imperial bastards had killed a good number of her party, and been allowed to take the supplies to the fort. Never before had she failed at destroying an imperial convoy, and the weight of it hit her hard. She had only lost 5 fighters in all of her attacks before, and the death toll was immense. Each one meant a family she had to tell that their father/mother/ brother/sister would not be coming back. Each one meant yet another victim to imperial cruelty. And, she relied on the loot of the convoys to feed the families… and they were running out of food as it was. Her subconscious told her to punish herself, and so she bit herself. Her fangs pierced her flesh, and she tore out a patch of fur with it. Then the pain from that hit her. With all this going through her mind, as well as flashbacks to her mothers death at the hands of imperial swine, she almost cried. But she forced it back, she was a leader, she reminded herself, and must not show emotion in front of her soldiers. To do so would be to admit her own incompetence as a leader. And when she snapped out of her daze, she got the remainder of her group, 43 Arnes-Raht warriors, and led them back to the camp.

Malpen Ponius was furious. Another convoy had disappeared, and his men were running low on food and other supplies. They had been foraging lightly for a long time of course, but Ponius knew they would have to step it up. But the more hunters and foragers were needed out every day, the fewer were able to work on the fortress. He did have a deadline to meet, and the empire wasn't very lenient. He had made good progress in the first month, but then his supplies coming from the south had been cut off. It had been two months, and still no supplies had come from that direction. But now, his supplies were being cut off from the north as well. He could keep going, with heavy reliance on hunting and foraging, for about 3 weeks more. Then, his legionnaires would starve. Ponius decided he would send out half of his garrison in groups of two, to gather food, and to search for the enemy. He got a map, and gave each group specific orders of where to go. If a group didn't come back, he would know where to attack.

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I don't know where I'm going with the rich guy's conspiracy. I think I used to have a plan, but I've only worked on this on and off for a period of probably over 6 months, so I forget it.

So, if anyone has a good idea, I'd be glad to hear it. I'm out of inspiration :(.

I do however, know where I'm going with the seige of the fortress, and where I plan the story to end up in general.


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